Three Weeks to Wed (18 page)

Blinkers might be a good idea.

* * *

Grace hid in her study for the better part of the day. She was trying and failing to work on her accounts when the sound of Worthington and the children returning echoed through the house.

She'd been miserable before, during, and after breakfast. Worthington had been hurt by her coolness. Her aunt might be correct that he would lose interest. Perhaps she should try to forget her aunt's advice and enjoy his company while he remained attracted to her, storing up all the memories to keep her warm in the future.

The door opened and Worthington stood in the entrance gazing at her. With his hair slightly tousled, he was even more handsome than usual. Grace's heart thudded as she stared back. She'd missed him so badly and had been ill-tempered with everyone because she hadn't had his company. Not to mention his touch.

He strode in and took her in his strong arms. “I can't live with you being so distant.”

Grace tilted her head up, and his lips met hers. Belatedly, she remembered she had on an old morning dress and very little else. His hands caressed her face as he kissed her more deeply. She wound her arms as far around his neck as she could and desperately returned his kiss. Their tongues tangled, and Grace ceded control to him. On tiptoe, she pressed against him. One of his hands roamed down to caress her tight breast. Only three thin layers of muslin separated his curious fingers from her nakedness, and she was rapidly losing her struggle not to make love as her desire overrode her brain.

“No stays?” he murmured against her lips.

“No.” She ran her greedy hands under his jacket. “You have on too many clothes.”

“I do.” He chuckled deeply. “You, however, are perfectly dressed.”

Her bodice loosened, and he peeled down each stratum of cloth covering her breasts.

“I've dreamt of these and how they tasted.” He nudged her head back with his and lowered his mouth to her breasts.

Flames shot up and swirling desire captured her. All thoughts of denying herself of the pleasure of making love died when he sucked her nipple. “Ah, Matt.”

“I won't do anything else. I promise.”

The ache between her legs overwhelmed her. Oh God, how she'd missed him. Breathing became harder, and she panted. “Please, I want you.”

Worthington raised his head and searched her eyes. “Are you sure?”

Not knowing how much longer she'd have him, Grace nodded. “Yes, yes, I'm sure.”

“Come, we'll try something new. I'd really like to have you back in a bed again.” His hand moved between them and his erection was free. Turning her so that she faced her desk, he said, “Rest your head on your arms.”

He raised her skirts so slowly she thought he'd never finish. His hard hands heated her thighs sending sparks of anticipation shooting through her. By the time his fingers moved to her center and wetness pooled between her legs, Grace wanted to scream and tell him to take her as he continued his slow path. Worthington's fingers stroked, causing spikes of desire to drive her mad. A high moan escaped her lips. “Matt, please. I want you.”

When he finally flipped up her skirt and nudged her legs apart, she was trembling with need.

“You're wet.” Matt chuckled deeply. “Grace, do you have any idea how I've missed you?”

His teeth nibbled her ear, and she pushed back against him. “As much as I've missed you.”

She wanted him so much. Relief coursed through her as Matt's shaft slowly filled and possessed her. His fingers found her most sensitive spot and rubbed. She struggled to breathe. A spark lit deep inside and his long, deep thrusts built her tension higher until her knees buckled and she convulsed around him.

Matt's groan and the way he held her when he came gave her hope that he wouldn't leave her soon.

He smoothed her skirts back down and carried her to the sofa. Holding her on his lap, he softly stroked her neck and feathered light kisses on her temple. She could stay like this with him forever.

“I wonder if you know how much I love you.” Matt had never required a woman to complete him before. Yet he needed Grace. Not just to make love to. Though her responsiveness called to his inner beast and soothed it. He was driven to protect and cherish her. Matt had never wanted a woman who did everything well all by herself. Even though Anna and Phoebe were good friends, and he valued them, Grace was different, a strong woman who still required him. Giving him his purpose in life.

He shifted her around, pulled up her gown and petticoats, then retied her laces. Would she finally tell him what had been bothering her? Though he was sure Anna had been correct, Matt wanted Grace to trust him enough to say it. “Sweetheart, are you all right? There's been some constraint between us recently.”

“It was something my aunt said.” She nuzzled against him. “I'll try not to let it worry me.”

“If you want to tell me?”

“No. It's not a concern that need bother you.”

But he wanted her to tell him. How could he make her happy if he didn't know? “If you insist.”

She laughed. “I do.”

Matt tried to hold her closer, to let her know she could trust him. He tried again. “I would like to know.”

She shook her head. “It's not important.”

The hell it wasn't. It had made them both miserable. He'd find out what it was later. “My cousin Merton arrived today begging a room. I told him I didn't know how long he could stay, that I needed to discuss it with you first. I'm happy to kick him out on his ear, if you wish.”

“How bad is he?”

“Completely insufferable. He never fails to get my ire up, and you'll hear my sisters refer to him as ‘his marquisship.'”

Grace pursed her lips. “I have trouble picturing Patience allowing that.”

“Normally she would not, however, he didn't endear himself to her, either. He came to visit us a few years ago, all puffed up in his own consequence. Thought everyone should be impressed that he was a marquis and acted as if he was making a duty visit to poor relations.” Matt smiled. “He assured us that, as the head of the family, he would always be willing to help.”

“Is he?” Grace's brow furrowed. “The head of your family, I mean. How could that even be?”

“No, my ancestor married a lady who held the title. After she died, their son became the earl. Merton's side of the family has never got over the fact that our side of the family became a new house.”

“I do not understand. If he usually comes to Town for the Season, why must he reside with you?”

He wished Merton wasn't staying with them. “He was supposed to go on his Grand Tour, but his mother sent him to Town to find a wife.”

Grace frowned. “How old is he?”

Settling her back against him, he said, “Twenty-eight. You haven't met my aunt Merton.”

She twisted around. “I beg your pardon, my lord, but I have. She's actually some sort of relation of mine, and not at all a dragon.” Grace screwed her face up for a moment. “Is not his family name Bradford?”

“Yes. My ancestor took his wife's surname. The gentlemen in my line will do almost anything for the ladies they love.” Matt resumed the original topic. “Could be they heard about us, and he doesn't want me to get the jump on him in setting up my nursery.” He kissed her forehead and couldn't resist holding one of her breasts in his hand.

Grace blushed delightfully. “Maybe, though the news would have had to have traveled terribly quickly.”

Enough about his cousin. “Do you know you're even more beautiful when you blush?”

The deep rose in her face deepened. “It is not necessary for you to pay me compliments.”

“You're out there, my lady, it is essential.” Matt captured her lips again.

Grace lay back in his arms, her eyes glazed with desire. “In that case, do you know how handsome you are with your hair tousled?”

He cruised her jaw with his tongue.

“You should invite him to join us for dinner.”

“Grace, he's a bore.”

“Nevertheless, he's part of your family and staying at your house. It's only proper. Besides, what is one more person at our table?”

“You do have a point.” He took a paper from his pocket. “We must take a look at Phoebe's list of entertainments for the week.”

“And compare them with where Charlotte and Louisa are going. What time is it?”

His stomach picked that moment to growl. “Time for tea.”

Grace leaned her head back to look at the clock giving him perfect access to her neck. It was impossible not to nibble it. Her giggle rumbled under his lips. If he could only keep her this relaxed.

Dominic Sylvester Henry, Tenth Marquis of Merton, Eleventh Earl of Scarsdale, and Baron Bradford, frowned at the mirror.

“What is it, my lord?” his valet, Witten, asked.

“I thought I saw a spot, but I daresay it was a shadow.”

His valet peered closely at the snowy-white neckcloth. “It must have been. I see nothing, my lord, and I inspect every piece of linen that comes back from the laundress.”

Merton placed his gold-rimmed quizzing glass, pocket watch, and fobs about his person. Not too many, of course. One would not wish to draw Brummell's fire at Whites later. “I believe I am ready.”

Witten opened the door and Dom stepped into the corridor, making his way to the grand staircase and thence to the drawing room where he'd been instructed to wait until the family was gathered. As it turned out, he was the last one to arrive.

“You are late.”

He turned to find a tallish, fashionably dressed young lady glaring at him and bowed. “I beg your pardon, Lady Louisa, is it not?”

She curtseyed. “It is. Now we must be off.” She took Worthington's arm and led the other three sisters out into the main hall to the door.

Lady Worthington, the only one left, curtseyed, and Merton offered her his arm. “Good evening, my lady.”

“Good evening, my lord.” Her tone was slightly chilly.

Being in Worthington House must be similar to being in an enemy camp. Why had he even bothered to honor them with his presence?

He followed the others across the square, up the shallow stairs to Stanwood House, and into the drawing room.

A striking lady, not in her first blush, came forward to greet him. From the way Worthington gazed at her, she must be his intended.

She curtseyed. “Lord Merton, how very kind of you to join us. Your mama is a connection of mine. We shall consider you as family.”

Thank the Lord. Someone who knew what was due his rank. He took the hand she offered and kissed it. “Lady Grace, how could I have stayed away?”

She smiled politely. “Obviously, you could not.”

“Not if you wanted to eat, that is.” Worthington smirked.

Leave it to his cousin to ruin the mood. “Thank you, Worthington, for your acute observation.”

Lady Grace glared briefly at Matt. “I shall introduce you to the others. Some of whom I believe you've already met.”

Merton was formally introduced to the children he'd met earlier to-day. He turned to meet the sister who'd gone shopping and was struck dumb. Standing before him was the loveliest young woman he'd ever seen. Her hair matched her elder sister's and her eyes were the same arresting deep sky blue, but there the resemblance ended.

Which was strange since they actually looked very much alike. Her skin seemed to glow with more luminescence.

Humor lurked in her gaze as she rose from making her curtsey. She was no taller than Lady Grace, but she was sylphlike in her carriage. Dom took her hand and kissed it, then forgot to give it back. “Lady Charlotte, I am enchanted.”

Her perfect lips curved in a smile. “Thank you, my lord. We are pleased you could join us.”

Her voice was musical, and he looked forward to a very pleasant evening in Lady Charlotte's company. Then his cousin Louisa joined them.

She took Lady Charlotte's arm. “Come along, Charlotte, he's very handsome, but not worth your time.”

Lady Charlotte grimaced. “Excuse me, my lord. Louisa . . .” She was pulled away before she could finish.

He stood alone for a few moments feeling rather foolish, when the youngest girl, Mary, that was her name, came up to him. “Well, no matter what the others say, I think you're nice.”

“Thank you.” He smiled. “The others?”

Mary took him by the hand to a sofa. “The other side of the family, Matt's sisters.”

“Ah. What do they say? Or should I ask?”

“Only that you are puffed in your own con—con—I don't remember the rest.”

“That's all right. I think I have it. Lady Mary, may I escort you into dinner?”

Mary's chin rose higher. “Yes, you may, and you may also ask me about Charlotte if you'd like.”

Merton choked. What did they say about coming from the mouth of babes? “Thank you for your very kind offer.”

* * *

Grace gave Matt her arm. Charlotte's and Louisa's behavior had been an embarrassment. “I do not care what you think of him. While he is in my home, he shall be treated kindly. What Louisa did was not only rude, it was meanspirited. Charlotte will hear from me concerning her behavior.” Grace glanced over her shoulder. “I could not be more proud of Mary. She is the only one who has behaved just as she ought, and she's only five.”

Matt frowned. “If I'd known he was going to cause a problem, I would have suggested he dine at his club.”

“
He
was not the problem.” Grace stopped until Lord Merton reached the dining room door. “My lord, we are dining
en familie
. However, you may sit next to me. Mary, you may sit next to Lord Merton.”

Mary beamed. “Thank you. I'd like that.”

Merton, with Mary on his arm, strolled to where she'd indicated.

Matt turned and whispered in Grace's ear, “At least his conquest is too young to be thinking of marriage.”

“For your information”—she allowed her irritation to show in her tone—“no female is too young to think of marriage. Do try to behave. Where is Patience?”

Matt glanced around. “There.” He indicated one corner of the dining room.

Patience was speaking in hushed tones to Louisa, and, for her part, Louisa hung her head. Grace nodded approvingly. “Good.”

For the first time, it was clear to her that she could be of value to Matt's family as well.

* * *

When Charlotte had entered the drawing room, she hadn't expected to see Lord Merton. He was even better-looking up close. His golden-blond hair was expertly styled in a new windblown fashion, à la Vent. His coat cut to perfection across his broad shoulders. Merton wasn't as tall as Matt, but he was still much taller than she. He bowed elegantly, and when she gazed into his eyes they changed color, from gray to blue. She would have happily stayed, until Louisa pulled her away. Charlotte was glad her youngest sister had taken him in hand, and she tried not to watch him during dinner. She would apologize as soon as she could. She was sure Grace would expect her to.

Matt declined having port in the dining room, and he and Merton joined the ladies in the drawing room.

She made her way over to where Merton stood. “My lord?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“I—I wanted to say that I should not have allowed Louisa to take me away.”

His eyes widened, and Merton seemed to relax. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome, and I'm happy that Mary made you feel welcome. She did, didn't she?”

“Yes, she did. She is very charming.”

Charlotte laughed lightly. “Indeed, though sometimes embarrassingly direct.”

He flushed a little. “I predict she will be one of those ladies who know just how to help everyone.”

“You're probably correct. Tell me, do you spend much time in Town?” She led him to a chair and sat on the sofa next to it.

“I try to always be present for the parliamentary sessions.”

“Indeed. I am very interested in politics. To which party do you belong?”

He stiffened a little. “Why the Tories, of course.”

“Oh.” That was a disappointment.

“I take it your family supports the Whigs?”

Charlotte smiled politely. “Yes, Lord Worthington does as well.”

Merton raised a supercilious brow. “I would not wish to speak badly of my cousin, but he does have what I consider to be rather extreme views.”

She struggled to maintain a pleasant expression. This is what Grace meant about using one's manners when one would prefer not to. “Indeed, and which of those views do you consider extreme?”

“I shall give you an example. All this talk of social reform. Why should the average man have a vote? They wouldn't know what to do with it. There is a reason our society is ordered as it is.”

Charlotte spoke to him for quite a half an hour before tea was served. Though Merton was one of the more attractive gentlemen she'd seen, he didn't seem to have an original thought in his head. Did he truly believe the things he said? It was as if he was living in the last century. Such a shame. She allowed him to escort her to where Grace was pouring tea and took the cup he handed her.

Perhaps husband hunting was not going to be as easy as she thought it would.

* * *

Early the following morning, Charlotte knocked softly on her sister's bedchamber door. “Grace?”

“Charlotte, come in.” Grace sat at her dressing table while Bolton put her hair up.

“Grace, what did you think of Merton?”

“I thought him very well mannered. Particularly after the provocation Worthington and Louisa offered.”

“I agree that was not well done. But did you think him a little—well a little stodgy?”

Bolton finished, and Grace signaled to her to leave. “Yes, I think stodgy is the word I would use.”

“It is not as if he is older.”

“He is young and handsome, but stodgy, nonetheless.” She grinned. “Some people are born that way, others learn it.” Grace gave Charlotte a wry smile. “I would caution you not to expect him to change. Don't lose heart, he is only the first eligible gentleman you've met. There will be plenty more.”

Charlotte couldn't keep her brows from drawing together. “What do you think I should do?”

“Look around. There is no reason for you to marry this year, unless you want to. Keep in mind that a handsome face and pleasant manners are not everything, and may, indeed, hide a number of sins. You must agree on how you wish to live your lives as well.”

“Did you and Worthington do that?”

Grace paused for a moment. “We are fortunate in that we are both very liberal thinkers.”

Charlotte nodded thoughtfully. Grace was almost always right, as she was now. Unless some being came along and magically changed Merton's views, he would not do for her. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome, my dear.” Grace grinned as she stood. “Come, let's go down to breakfast before the children pile in.”

“Grace?”

“Yes, love?”

“Will we live at Worthington House?”

Her sister heaved a sigh. “I truly dislike the idea of uprooting everyone. I must take some time this week to go over the houses and discuss it with Matt. I'll also need to consider Lady Worthington.”

“That's what is difficult about being a lady, isn't it?” Charlotte frowned. “Our homes are not truly ours. I never thought I would leave Stanwood. I see now that even if you were not marrying Matt, or I didn't wed, once Charlie marries, it would not be mine anymore.”

Grace hugged her. “Very true. Or if you are a widow and your son marries. Although at that point, there is always the option of the dower house. Then again, there are women like the Dowager Lady Beaumont who can afford to set up their own homes. Before you wed, we shall discuss it in much more detail when we draft the settlement agreements. They are your protection in any marriage.”

“Not that I would ever think of doing such a thing, but what if a couple elope?”

“In that case.” The edges of Grace's lips tugged down. “The lady is completely dependent on the good will of her husband, as he will own everything she has, including her private possessions.”

“I do not think I would care for that.” Charlotte kissed her sister. “Thank you.”

That was the best part of having Grace as her sister. She didn't push aside one's concerns. “I'm glad you and Matt will marry. You love him very much, don't you?”

Something passed over Grace's face, and when she smiled it was more beautiful than Charlotte had ever seen it. “Yes, I do.”

* * *

Matt had already consumed his first cup of tea. He'd been about ready to send for Grace when she and Charlotte entered.

“You're here early, my love.”

He stood, took her hands, and kissed her lightly on the lips. “Yes, I wanted to speak with you before the horde arrived.”

Nothing even resembling a smile hovered on her lips. “Horde?”

Ah, that came under the category of “I may criticize my family, but woe to whoever else does the same.” He kissed her again. “No, no, don't pull caps with me, my darling. Even you have to admit that it's impossible to carry on a serious conversation with everyone else here. I include my four sisters and stepmother.”

Finally a rueful grin appeared on her lips. “You're right, I can't argue with that.”

“Good.” He helped her make her breakfast selections. If he could only wake up with her each morning, his life would be perfect. “My housekeeper would like to know when you are coming to inspect the house.”

Grace took a breath. “I've been thinking about that. After breakfast I should think.”

“Perfect. That will be one less item on our list.” He signaled to one of the footmen. “Please have someone sent to Worthington House, and tell Mrs. Thorton her ladyship will be over in about an hour. She is to hold herself ready.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“An hour?” Grace shook her head. “I couldn't possibly be ready by then.” She started ticking off the reasons on her fingers. “The children will barely be done eating. I must give Charlotte her assignments, get the children up to the school-room, dress, meet with the cook, and I'm sure there is something I've forgotten.”